Not everyone’s going to understand. That’s why when I announced I was driving 100 miles round trip to go to Cars and Coffee Irvine, I was met with the same reaction from family and friends: “are you psycho?” I guess, in a way, I was. I was an addict in need of a fix. So I drove.
Was I crazy? Probably. Did I regret it? Not at all. Because I’m a car enthusiast, through and through.
Hi, my name is David and I’m an addict. I’m addicted to turbocharged cars and manual transmissions, which is why I own a car with neither, a N/A 1992 Nissan 300ZX with *gasp* an automatic. The latter part is why it will soon be out of my stable.
My life in Los Angeles is pretty much centered around cars. For as long as J can remember, my father had taken me and my brother to shows, which sort of sparked my passion. Even now, I make a point of going to at least one show a week or more, whether it be Supercar Sunday, a small meet or a huge event at the Peterson. I constantly wash and detail my car. I read about them 24/7 and never shut up about it.
As I said before, I’m an addict. I’m addicted to cars. Is my family unhappy about it? A bit. Can it be an expensive hobby? Oh yes. Would I try to change? Never.